An Unlikely Matchmaker
by creepstiel
Summary: In which Draco Malfoy discovers his unexpected post-war mission in life is to play matchmaker to Potter and Granger and perhaps learn some things about himself in the process.


_Written for the Quidditch League Fanfiction Competition_

 **Kenmare Kestrals, Beater 1**

 **Mandatory Prompt:** Write Beater 2's NOTP (HarryHermione)

 **Optional Prompts:** (word) lovely

(word) apple

 **Word Count:** 2,350

 _Thank you, Amber, for beta-ing!_

* * *

Draco can't help the slight burn of regret in his gut when he sees them together.

He has never had that kind of connection. Sure, he has dated and he has forged friendships, or the illusion of such. None of his relationships come close to what he sees in Potter and Granger.

He's lonely, always has been if he's being entirely honest with himself. Lately he has taken up a mantle of unfettered honesty, so he can admit he's unsure of what comes next. He doesn't know his place. He can tell himself, late at night when he can't sleep, when he can only stare into the dark of his dungeon dormitory, that he doesn't know if returning to Hogwarts was the right choice.

Only a handful of students felt it necessary to complete their education properly. He hadn't been very concerned with academia when he decided to join the small flock of returning students. It was a choice made in fear, in anxiety, he hadn't been ready to face the real world. Fear had driven him for too long. Fear and anger and misplaced hatred had filled all the gaps in his life, in him, until he couldn't tell himself apart from those nasty feelings. Now they're going away, revealing a new Draco Malfoy, and he doesn't know quite what to do with that image yet.

He isn't the same old Draco, but no one cares about his character development. The wizarding community could certainly hold a grudge. That is especially true for the bright young minds here at Hogwarts, they have all that fiery adolescent angst and emotional bluster to back up their convictions. In their eyes, Draco Malfoy is but a Death Eater in decent wizards' clothing.

So Draco keeps to himself. Mostly.

Other times, like now, he finds himself sitting in the library. It's the easiest place to sit and observe his peers, particularly Hogwarts' formidable power couple. He's strangely fascinated by them, can't stop chasing that feeling he gets when he sees them. It's his own form of repentance. He's seated a few tables down, a satisfactory vantage point.

The duo dutifully studies, but they keep making eyes at each other from across the table. Little peels of laughter ring out here and there, where Potter is no doubt laughing at some clever joke Granger has made. Draco can't make out what is being said from this distance, but he likes to make up the dialogue in his head. He's the narrator of their study dates.

After a while, Granger packs up her things and leaves. Potter stays, idly flipping through pages of his Defense Against the Dark Arts textbook.

Draco can't say exactly why he does it, maybe it's a combination of that sinking feeling of loneliness, that need to belong somewhere, or just straight up boredom turned stupid bravery, but he finds himself gathering up his own things and plopping himself down across from his former nemesis.

When Potter looks up there's only the faintest flicker of surprise, then his face is schooled into something more neutral. He nods in acknowledgement and says, "Malfoy."

He returns the gesture. "Potter."

Maybe Draco isn't as inconspicuous as he thought he was, because Potter looks like he's been waiting for this moment.

There's a beat or two of silence before Draco continues. "I'm surprised Granger left your little study session so early. She doesn't seem the type to skip out on such a thing."

There is a moment where he thinks Potter might call him out, tell him he has no right to act so familiar, to presume he knows anything about Hermione Granger.

He doesn't.

"She tutors some of the younger students in our House. They're more comfortable meeting in the common room."

"Ah. That makes sense."

"Mhm."

"You know,"Draco says. He hasn't the foggiest idea what has possessed him today, but he presses on. "You two make a lovely couple."

Potter startles and gives him a look like he's grown an extra head. Draco brings a hand up to his neck, a quick feel confirms that nothing extra is sprouting.

"We're not that… there's nothing between us." His words are stammered out, his face growing an impressive shade of red. It's reminiscent of an apple. "I mean, we're just…we're friends!"

"You're just friends?" Draco asks, incredulous.

"Yes, of course. I don't know what gave you any idea otherwise."

"You're hopeless, Potter." Draco shakes his head. "You're lucky you have me now."

"Have... what now?"

Draco extends his hand. If the other man notices the slight tremble to it, he makes no mention of it.

"My name's Malfoy, Draco Malfoy. You'll soon find out some wizards aren't as... awful as they initially were, that they've grown as a person, and that they're clearly more insightful than others." He gives Harry a look at this point, hoping he gets the hint. "You don't want to end up with the wrong witch, when the one you love has been at your side all along. I can help you there."

Harry recognizes this for what it is, Draco can see it in his eyes. He understands the weight of this gesture. It's a redo, harking back to all that time ago on the Hogwarts Express. It's a little strange, somewhat awkward, and wholly unexpected but that about sums up their lives doesn't it? He takes Draco's hand and gives it a firm, sure shake. It's a reassurance, an agreement, a sense of promise. This is what the beginning of a friendship looks like.

"It's a pleasure, Draco."

Draco feels a tension leave him, one he hadn't realized he'd grown so used to until it finally dissipated. He sighs in relief as they pull their hands back.

"Honestly though, Harry." He settles back in his chair, giving the man across from him another pointed look. "What's the deal here? You clearly _love_ Granger. Are we just going to ignore that fact?"

"Wow, we've been friends for what, a minute? And you're already taking such a keen interest in my love life? You really get straight to the point, don't you?"

"You really like to deflect, don't you?"

"Merlin, okay!" Harry throws his hands up. He whispers the next part, like it's a secret, like there's someone around who might overhear. There isn't. "Yes, I may have feelings for Hermione, and those feelings may be somewhat stronger than friendship."

Draco whispers back, humoring his new friend, and presently ignoring how contented he is with this new friendship, "There's no need to be coy. You're in love with your best friend. And if you weren't so busy living in denial, you might have noticed she's in love with you too."

A silence stifles the air between them as Harry takes in this information.

"She what now?" he blurts out.

"I know I've accused you of being dense in the past, but I didn't actually believe it was this bad. She loves you. She reciprocates your feelings, Potter."

He shakes his head, a self-pitying look crossing his features.

"She and Ron have a thing."

"What thing? Where is Weasley, anyway?" Draco has heard talk, of course, but he wasn't about to take any rumor at face value. "Why didn't he come back?"

"They have this thing, see. I thought maybe she would have chosen me, after everything, but then... they got together right in the middle of... " Harry looks guilty. "Anyway, we were offered jobs at the Ministry, after the dust settled. Ron accepted. I nearly did as well, but Hermione thought it would be better if we returned. Tie up loose ends, all that, she said that it would help us regain a sense of normalcy. You know?"

"In theory, I know. In reality? There's nothing normal about this."

"You've got that right." Harry snorts.

He's still got that forlorn look on his face and that just won't do. Draco has an idea.

"So they're officially dating? Hermione and..." He trails off, not sure if using her first name is crossing some sort of line, and if it is, he'd rather not make things worse by using Weasley's as well.

"No, not officially. I just know they kissed and there was what seemed like the start of a relationship, and I just assume it blossomed from there. It had to have, right? I should have known it would be them."

"You can't just make assumptions in situations like these. That's an ametuer move."

"Moments ago, you were operating under the assumption that Hermione was dating _me_."

"That's different." Draco waves him off.

"How is that... never mind. Fine, let's say they're not in a romantic relationship. Even if they're not, it doesn't mean she's necessarily into me."

"She's into you, I swear that she is. Anyone can see that." Draco insists. "Trust me."

It's a heavy request if he's ever made one.

"Okay."

"Really? That easy? You, Harry Potter, The Chosen One, Golden Boy Extraordinaire, Hero of Heroes, Savior of the Wizarding World trust little old me to set you up on a date?"

The lack of resistance is a pleasant surprise.

"If only just to say 'I told you so' when this blows up in our faces." Harry says, mouth curving up into a smile.

Draco can feel his own smile, something he hasn't felt in so very long. Somehow it feels natural all the same. He says then, with an air of surety, "Alright then. I expect an invitation to the wedding, in addition to a heartfelt apology for ever doubting my matchmaking skills."

"Sure thing, Draco."

—

Hermione Granger is a clever witch, so it doesn't take her long to catch on.

Draco feels the side eye she's giving him and Harry as the pair bicker in not-so-hushed tones.

"I've been telling you all week, you idiot." Draco glares at Harry. He's fed up. "I can't do it for you, you know. I did my part. I laid the groundwork. I dropped my subtle hints."

"It's not the right time. We're _trying_ to study, do you want us all to fail?"

"That's such a flimsy excuse, Potter. Insulting, too. How dare you imply that our academic standing is so shaky that one little question is going to derail everything."

"It's not a little question at all! It's huge! _How dare you_ belittle my love life?"

"What love life, you dolt? I swear you're doing this on purpose just to deny me any success as a matchmaker. That's so like you to—"

They're interrupted by Hermione loudly closing her book.

"Are you finished?" She asks, giving them a severe look.

Draco grimaces at the look in her eyes, recalling the time she punched him in the face. He glances at Harry.

"Sorry, were we distracting you?" Harry glances back at Draco when he says 'distracting' as if to cast blame with his eyes.

"Yes, you two have been very distracting lately. I've about had enough." Hermione takes a deep breath. Her next words are spoken with an impressive air of confidence. "Harry, we're going on a date this weekend. A picnic by the lake, maybe, the fresh air would do us both some good."

Harry looks dumbfounded.

Draco wants to jab him in the side with his elbow, but he has to settle for discreetly kicking him under the table. It gets the job done.

"That sounds great, Hermione. I like fresh air and...you. I like you."

Draco rolls his eyes. This is embarrassing.

"Likewise." She says, amusement flitting across her face.

"I was going to ask you, I swear." Harry looks sheepish.

"No you weren't." Draco chimes in.

"I'm sure he would have," Hermione defends him. "Eventually. He was right though, we should be focusing on our studies for now."

"Right, right." Harry says and looks down at his closed book and blank parchment.

He's probably already daydreaming about their date. He has that glazed over look in his eyes.

Draco waits until Granger's attention has turned back to her own books and parchment, then he takes the opportunity to elbow Harry's ribs. It's just as satisfactory as he thought it would be.

"What now?"

"Told you so, Potter."

—

It's a matter of followup, Draco will say if anyone catches him. What sort of matchmaker would be be if he didn't check up on his little lovebirds? Someone needs to make sure their first date is going well. He really hopes he won't have to explain himself though; he reckons that wouldn't go well. He could see the Daily Prophet headlines now: Former Death Eater Turned Creepy Peeper.

Regardless of the risk, he has made a bush into a lookout station. He takes care to keep any rustling at a minimum. It won't do to draw attention to himself.

He peers through the branches, wincing at the small cuts and scrapes he gets for his effort. There isn't enough room to perform any healing spells.

The view is adequate, even through the leaves. He can see them talking and laughing, Potter still holding a half eaten sandwich.

"So far so good," Draco mutters to himself.

It happens quickly but naturally. There is nothing rushed or forced about it. They're talking one minute and then they're kissing the next. The half eaten sandwich still in hand, of course, because everything has to be a just little bit awkward with Harry Potter. That's part of his charm.

Draco is quick to let go of the branches, obscuring his view to give them privacy. He didn't come here to watch _that_.

He smiles to himself, basking in that feeling of content he had starting feeling as soon as he had made amends with his old enemy. It's a warm feeling in his chest that feels like he is finally where he belongs. It feels like being home in a way that Malfoy Manor never felt like being home. He knows things won't always be easy, but he knows he's finally doing something right. He's finally doing something that makes him happy, and he thinks he could get used to that.


End file.
